


into the clouds

by oddpen



Category: Gugudan (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-02 11:06:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10216613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddpen/pseuds/oddpen
Summary: — haebin meets liu xiening the day spring starts early





	1. so that i can live beautifully

Spring comes early with warm sun rays, winter chill still clinging to the air in bursts of wind.  

Haebin still lets herself indulge with an ice pop, peeling the wrapper off carefully.  

The walk back home is enjoyable this time around, snow melting with the rising temperature.

She doesn’t think of much as she walks, thinks of her upcoming schedule at work, trying to remember if she still has food to reheat as soon as she gets home.

Her path is filled with little shops, bookstores, houses in between.  It’s a quiet part of town, away from the main road.  Haebin likes it like this, likes the tranquility, the easiness of it.

The building she lives in is the only hint of the big city they live next to, apartment complexes sleek and minimalistic.  

Now as she rounds the corner, she almost stops in surprise, instead slows down, ice pop now down to only the small wooden stick.  She bites it gently, unsure as she approaches the gate of the building.

There’s a girl pacing nervously in between Haebin and the gate, suitcase laying limply by the wall.

Haebin stops a couple of steps away from the girl, unsure if she should wait for the other to notice her or make herself be noticed.

She doesn’t get to think too much about her dilemma when the girl looks up at her, halfway through her pacing.  

She has big eyes, Haebin notices, squinting her own.

“Hi,” the girl says, voice soft, stuttering, “Can you help me?’

She’s careful with her words, syllables clipped, her hands moving with them.

“Sure?” Haebin’s voice tilts into a question.

“I moved here,” she points to the building behind her, “gate won’t open?”

Haebin’s eyes shift to the gate, the little number pad where the entry code has to be entered, to the suitcase, and back at the girl.

Haebin’s hesitation must look like mistrust to the other girl, who sticks her hand into the pocket of her jeans, pulling out a small slip of paper, wrinkled at the edges.

“Here,” she says, voice a little louder.

Haebin takes it slowly, looking at the way the ink bleeds in some spaces.

_Liu Xiening_

_158 Chungjang Road_

_Apartment 48_

Haebin looks back at the girl, now closer, big eyes bright in hope, small mouth settling into a smile.   

She doesn’t say anything as she walks to the gate, popsicle stick still in her mouth, backpack a little crooked, she fixes it as she punches in the number, hears the beeping sound of approval.

The other girl makes a small sound of happiness, Haebin turns to watch her pick up her lone suitcase.

“Thank you,” she bows, her accent stronger in her relief, she takes back the small paper from Haebin, pointing to it and then to the top of the building, “top floor?” she asks.

Haebin nods at her, realizes that she hasn’t been the friendliest of people, offers a smile for the first time.

“Yes,” she says, “top floor.”

Haebin starts the walk up home.

Liu Xiening follows her.


	2. the wind blows, turning rain into flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> — it rains the second day haebin meets xiening

It’s raining the next day when Haebin leaves her apartment.

She opens her umbrella in silence, looking at the darkening gray clouds, raindrops landing at the corner of her eye.  She blinks until the feeling goes away and begins walking to work.

The rain breaks into the pitter patter of lazy spring showers.  The shop is empty even so, Haebin relegated to stocking and fixing the shelves behind her counter.

Outside, hanging from their small sunroof are pots of plants, water collecting on the leaves and dropping when they get too heavy.

At least Heabin doesn’t have to water them today.

Printed over the overhead sign is a simple _Releaf_.  

There’s little pouches of dried leaves, mixed by hand for certain tea flavors, stocked behind Haebin alongside small tins holding even more for customized teas.  The small shelves that have been cramped into the small store are full of mismatched plants in mismatched pots and cups.  

The store gets enough customers, surprisingly even the plants sell alongside the tea, often as an afterthought, often as a small attempt to brighten a home, a day.  

Today with the rain no one is buying tea, no one is buying plants.

With the shop’s door open the smell of the cool air reaches Haebin, the smell of the warm rain fluttering something in her stomach, _longing_.

The sound of the splattering rain as the rain gains strength makes Haebin sigh.

She takes out her small notepad from under the counter, flipping it to the right page, words scrawled, crossed out, the corners of the page dogeared, wrinkled.

She shakes the small tins, writing down the names of spices and flowers from the ones that echo too loudly.

_ chamomile _

_ ginger _

_ rose _

_ camellia _

A soft knock breaks the silence, Haebin startles, looking back.

Her eyes meet with the girl behind the glass window, umbrella over her, the hand by the window turning from a knocking fist to a splayed out wave.

Haebin doesn’t say anything as the other girl walks in, careful when she closes her umbrella, leaving it to lean outside.

The girl looks around the small shop as she walks to the counter, smiling when she reaches her, eyes big.

“Xiening,” she says, pointing to herself, “from yesterday?”

Haebin nods, closing her notepad, suddenly remembering she hasn’t introduced herself.

“Han Haebin,” she says.

“Haebin?” Xiening asks.

“Yes,” Haebin nods, points to herself as well, “Haebin.”

There’s nothing that follows after that, Haebin can hear the way the rain starts to stop, meets the curious gaze of the other girl.

“What is that?” the girl asks, nodding at the tins behind the counter.

Haebin smiles at the question, turning to take out tins she thinks the girl will like.  She realizes she knows nothing of her but can't help pulling out certain scents.

“The base is quite expensive,” Haebin says, “but that doesn’t matter.  I have some chrysanthum I can add and some rose hip too.”

She doesn’t bother with the usual weighing machine she uses for these, “some safflower and cornflower with vanilla…”

Xiening watches her, listens to her talk.  It’s too fast for her to understand, too many unfamiliar words but she still reaches for her pocket when Haebin seals the little paper pouch, pulling out wrinkled bank notes.

“No,” Haebin puts her hand up, head shaking, “don’t worry about it.  No charge.”

The girl looks at her for a second, face searching until it cracks into a large smile, large eyes bright again.

“Thank you.”

Haebin watches her walk back into the rain.


	3. flowers blooming from your eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> —haebin expects rain, she doesn't expect xiening

Clouds cover the sun when Haebin is halfway to the supermarket.  The weather didn’t mention any rain but Haebin still brings an umbrella.

The shopping district is a bit grittier, loud and bustling.  Haebin only ever goes for groceries.  Unlike years ago when she would go out for fun, buying frivolous things, making too many friends.

She walks past stalls of food, candies, trinkets that catch the attention of children.

The sidewalks are still wet from the night showers, people crowding to get their shopping done before another storm hits.

Haebin finds her way across, searching for paths with less people, walking away from the heart of the shops.

The sidewalks thin out to stalls offering fresh fruit, spices, homemade food.

Haebin smiles at the offers, doesn’t buy anything.

“Flower?” someone asks her, voice familiar in its uncertainty, tones unfamiliar to the language.

She looks up, plastic wire bag sliding down her arm as she stands to look at Xiening.

The stand is small, lined with buckets full of cut flowers, bouquets stacked on a rack.

Xiening doesn’t say anything as Haebin stares, her small mouth settles into a smile, stepping back to the stand, sitting on the small wooden chair.

“Flower?” she repeats, arms waving at the the flowers of different colors, still vivid, “1 for 1.”

Haebin walks closer, covered slightly by the big umbrella over the stand, hand reaching to the soft petals of a pink carnation.

“You work here?” she asks, looking at Xiening, pointing at the flowers.

Xiening looks at her, Haebin can see the way she attempts to decipher the words, the tone, before she nods slowly.

“I work here,” she smiles, proudly, “nice grandma let me.”

Haebin can’t help smiling back, biting her lip to stop it from spreading too wide.

“You sell a lot?” she asks then, hands reaching for the chrysanthemums in a bouquet of calla lilies.

Xiening frowns at that, raising her hand in a so-so motion.

“Ah,” Haebin nods, “enough?”

Xiening’s face forms into a look of concentration, a sound of frustration catching on her throat.

_Cute_ , Haebin thinks, turns her face in pretense to look at a rose bouquet, hiding a blush.

“Enough,” Xiening finally settles on, catching Haebin’s attention, turning to look at her, “yes, _enough_.”

Haebin is getting used to all the silences that intermingle into their limited moments, flinching when she hears the dull sound of rain hitting the stall’s umbrella, splattering against the back of her legs where it doesn’t cover her.

“I have to go,” she says, remembering her shopping.

She watches as Xiening reaches into the buckets of flowers, pulling a white tulip, streaked red and yellow, long stem cut at an angle.

“Here,” Xiening says, holding the flower up to Haebin, smile gone softly shy.

Haebin looks at it, at Xiening’s wide eyes.  She reaches for her wallet in her bag, fingers slipping on the clasp, having difficulty opening.  Her cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

“No,” Xiening’s soft voice cuts over the sound of the strengthening rain, “don’t pay.  It’s a gift.”

Haebin looks up again, hair falling into her eyes, she reaches to pull it back behind her ears, reaching almost dumbly for the flower.

“Thank you,” she says, looking at it, “it’s beautiful.”

Xiening smiles at her.

She says good bye, places the tulip in her bag.

The rain hits hard against her umbrella as she walks towards the supermarket.


	4. all was golden in the sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> — haebin doesn't expect xiening in the spring morning

The morning sun seeps through the sheer curtains, slanting over the pots of plants littered through her apartment.

Haebin settles for reheating some leftover soup, washing rice to put into the rice cooker.

Outside the early birds are singing, the sound of their flapping wings breaking the silence in between.  

Haebin sets the rice cooker on just as there’s a knock on her door.

There’s not a lot of people who visit her, or any at all.  So she’s weary as she walks up to the door, tip toeing to see through the peephole.

She can make up the top of someone’s head, dark hair, the person slightly bowed.

Haebin opens the door with hesitation, just enough to get the other to look at her, a young looking girl in her school uniform.

“Hi,” she says, voice pitched a little lower than expected, offering a small polite smile, “I’m looking for Xiening?”

Haebin opens the door a little wider with the name, suddenly intrigued.

“Xiening?” she asks.

The girl nods.

“She doesn’t live here,” Haebin answers, “she’s one floor up.”

“Oh,” the younger girl says, “I know.  It’s just she’s not home and I remembered she mentioned you.”

“She knows where I live?” Haebin asks, some sort of hopefulness and uncertainty rising in her.

“Xiening-unnie?” the girl at the door shakes her head, laughing a little, “no, she just mentioned your name and it doesn’t really take a genius to look at the mailboxes to see which apartment is yours.”

Haebin feels a blush rise up her neck, dusting over her cheeks, her eyes land on the girl’s collared shirt and she clears her throat, “How old are you?  Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“Me?” the girl doesn’t answer, instead offers her hand, “I’m Cho Hyeyeon, Xiening-unnie might have mentioned you.”

“Han Haebin,” she says, taking the other girl’s hand, shaking it slowly, “Xiening hasn’t mentioned you at all.”

This doesn’t seem to dither the younger girl at all, who laughs, and leans forward, “so do you know where Xiening-unnie went?”

“No,” Haebin shakes her head, “not really.”

“That’s alright,” Hyeyeon smiles widely, “I’ll just wait here with you.”

Haebin can’t think of anything to do but open the door.

She offers Hyeyeon some of her breakfast, serves her half of the leftover soup, a bowl of rice.

She bows in thanks, eating quietly, looking at her phone.

Haebin doesn’t speak to her, unsure of what to say, unfamiliar with the other girl.

She’s almost done with her breakfast when there’s another knock at the door.  Two knocks in one day is more than Haebin has had in the past year.

She opens it without looking to see who it is and is surprised (stupidly so) when she’s looking at Xiening’s wide eyes.

“Hello,” Xiening says gently, bowing, “I am here for Hyeyeonnie?”

“Unnie!” Hyeyeon’s answering cry is louder than expected, she pushes past Haebin, settling next to Xiening, “I met Haebin-unnie!”

Xiening smiles at that, Haebin notices the faint soft pink rising to her cheeks.

“I told you to wait,” Xiening’s accent becomes a little stronger, “up there,” she points at the ceiling.

“That’s no fun,” Hyeoyeon grins, “besides now I know how Haebin-unnie really is.”

“Sorry,” Xiening’s blush has darkened, turning to face her, “Hyeyeon is still a child.”

“Am not!’ Hyeyeon pouts, “if you’re going to be mean I’ll leave.”

They watch as she walks to the end of the hallway, waiting.

“Sorry,” Xiening repeats, “thank you for...not getting mad.”

Haebin waves her off, “no problem...see you around.”

There conversation is abrupt, even in their past stilted conversation there is something unsatisfying about this one.

She watches as Xiening smiles at her, walks towards Hyeyeon.

Their conversation does not sound like Korean, from the limited studies Haebin has had it sounds more like Cantonese.

Hyeyeon, surprisingly responds in the same way before saying almost quietly, “you mean beautiful?  It’s _beautiful_ in Korean.”


End file.
